We already know that
he has his father's nose and his mother's chin.
At least, we think
ultrasound photo -- copies of which are currently
wall, cell phone, bulletin board, notebook cover and desktop background
a 43,897,621 mile radius -- reveal a
shadowy elf-child, a sleeping pumpkin face
latticework, dappled in manufactured daylight. When
the ultrasound, sometimes hourly,
sometimes half-hourly, sometimes
with a magnifying
no one else is around, I can
definitely see the combined facial landscape of my firstborn child
and the lovely young man she married.
We already know he's going to be a big boy. At 35 weeks in utero,
already weighs seven pounds and change.
We already know that his name will be "Max."
(We already know that my grandparental nickname of choice will
be "Gonka," which to *my* ear conveys the exact mix of
goofy/loving dorkitude I
bring to my tenure as Distaff Grandmother.)
We know that his hair will most likely be brown. We
nursery motif will be monkeys: small/brown/curly-tailed
Curious George acceptable in small doses,
sock monkeys permitted with a signed application and a $20 Transunion
We know which sports teams Max will likely be rooting for
Atlanta Braves), which venue will probably serve as his public
(BZ's Sports Bar), which family members are more likely to step in and
emergency poopy diaper (any of five doting grandparents,
with the word
"Auntie" in front of her name) and which are not (Uncle Kyle).
These are some of the things we know already.
Here's what we don't
We don't know exactly when he's going to be landing on Planet
for one thing. That's probably the biggest "We Don't Know" at
moment. The official due date is and has always been November
12th. As this pregnancy has inched along, excruciating week
by excruciating week, certain challenging
presented themselves -- Jaymi's gestational
diabetes, the amazing growth spurts Ultrasound Max continues to
experience -- which speak to the
possibility of an earlier arrival.
Perhaps a MUCH earlier arrival. Privately, the Mommy-To-Be
the Gonka-To-Be are rooting for October
31st ... an idea the Papa-To-Be regards with only
than if we'd suggested photoshopping Ultrasound Max into ZOMBIE
Ultrasound Max. Jaymi and I have even
month "Maxtober," in hopes of a Halloween
But no one knows for sure ... the same way we won't know if
be a lefty or
a rightie, if he'll prefer oranges to apples, if he'll have his Daddy's
beautifully spooky green
eyes or his Mama's warm chocolate brown. We'll just have to wait and
All of this seems pretty novel to this Soon-To-Be-Gonka, I must admit.
When I was pregnant with The Tots, back in the dark ages of
early-to-mid 1980's, I never had a clue what to expect. Their father
and I chose not to learn their genders in advance. The only
of the three who ever had an ultrasound photo taken was my middle
child, Kacie, and even then it revealed nothing more than a puzzle of
dark splotches and light splotches: to this day, I look at that antique
Polaroid and still have no idea which end is up. I listened
their heartbeats, an experience both thrilling and terrifying, but that
was as close to an external 'connection' as we ever got. They
each remained a
Mystery until the
moment they appeared in the obsetrician's hands,
blue and slippery and screaming holy hell.
So the idea that we know so much about Max before he is even born ...
that all we have to do is click a mouse and we can actually SEE his
face ... is a wonder to me. A lovely,
But the things we do or don't know right now don't matter, anyway.
Within a month, all of the worry and speculation and 'We Don't Knows"
will be left in the dust, like so much leftover baby shower spinach
dip. What matters is that there is already a uniquely
place in our hearts and our lives, ready to be filled by him.
And if the pregnancy continues a bit longer than we hoped
Maxtober passes without a new
occupant for the monkey nursery? No problem at all: we'll
start counting down the days to MAXGIVING.
great in a turkey hat, don't you think?
to throw a rock?